admin, Author at Scribble by the Ribble

Monoliths, aliens and a conflict of interests in the Dales

Standing on top of Great Stone of Fourstones, which marks the Yorkshire border with that other county whose name escapes me, you can enjoy one of the best ‘driveable’ views of the south-western dales. The Three Peaks, Gragareth, Howgills and the distant jagged teeth of the Lakeland Fells are laid out before you. The 16ft-tall glacial deposit is the only one of four large stone outcrops remaining on this spot on Tatham Fell, near High Bentham – the others probably having been broken up for buildings and tools. I wanted a view but not a trek on Wednesday and this monolith once again proved an ideal location. With a 200mm zoom lens I was able to make out the layered-cake effect of Ingleborough and capture Whernside looking particularly dominant above Twisleton Scar.

After writing last week’s blog on Sunday I wandered up Ribblesdale and on to Stainforth Foss where dozens of people were on salmon-leap-watch. I wondered whether there would be any conflict here today, as just a few yards down river from the falls were two anglers … salmon fishing? Poaching? I didn’t stop to find out, but headed further downstream to Langcliffe where the colours on the riverbank and millpond stood out starkly against a drab sky.

I reckoned this week would be one of the best for capturing the changing colours and I was right. On Monday I took a stroll around Malham Tarn – almost ignoring the tarn and concentrating on the surrounding bogland, shrubs and trees. The last time I’d been in this woodland I’d been startled by a deer but there was no sign this time.

The blue sky came out later and I got some good shots of the eastern side of Penyghent. I was also able to snatch some great scenes around home later that day in the evening sun.

St John the Evangelist in Langcliffe might not have the history or ancient architecture of older dales churches but it is certainly a pretty Victorian building within well-kept grounds and it looks a picture when caught in the evening sun.

At this time of year I like to raise my eyes above the area’s wonderful landscape and take in the ever-changing autumn sky. It’s been a treat this week with a variety of clouds, shades, and sunsets. On Friday I sat above Winskill and watched an invasion of aliens beaming up all before them … I woke up Saturday morning with ‘REJECT: Beyond Best Before Date’ stamped across my forehead.

Yesterday, after strolling by the Ribble in some glorious changing light, I drove up to the old road between Settle and Feizor to watch the sunset. I also waited as long as I dare for an unsteady hand-held night shot, to capture an outline of Ingleborough.

WARNING: there will be weather in the Dales

Wednesday: Checked the weather via my iPad. Taken aback to see a great big exclamation mark in a triangle with WARNING written underneath in large capital letters. My first thoughts were of nuclear clouds raining down those nasty radioactive thingies. Should I stock up on food for the cat? Have I time to build a shelter? Is my will up to date? Then I saw ‘Yellow alert’. Phew! Perhaps I have a few hours to prepare to face the approaching catastrophe. I read a little further about mankind’s impending doom: rain. Rain? I read it again. It’s going to rain. I live in the Dales, in the north of England, of course it’s going to rain. That’s what it does here … on a regular basis. We have rivers, and streams, and waterfalls … they exist because of the rain. I tossed the iPad aside in disgust and pondered why ‘they’ have to make everything into such a drama, another soap opera. I put on my waterproofs (like you do when it rains) and ventured out to witness the predicted scenes of nightmarish destruction and see how the masses were facing up to this Armageddon…

One of my favourite places after a ‘little downpour’ is on the foothills of Penyghent along the Silverdale Road to Halton Gill around Giant’s Grave. As you walk across one of the fields here you can hear – and feel – the water rumbling its way through underground caverns before it rushes out to fill the normally placid beck. Above the road, Penyghent was hiding behind a curtain of cloud.

Down in Stainforth the swollen beck submerged the stepping stones, while at the Foss any hopes salmon had of making their journey up to the spawning grounds today were thwarted by this torrent. A short video here https://youtu.be/Jze79UvfCP0

A Stainforth chap, who knows I live in neighbouring Langcliffe, spotted me loitering suspiciously in his village and asked to see my passport. I said I’d applied for it and it was obviously lost in the post. I was allowed in temporarily – you can’t be too careful about border crossings nowadays. For his benefit I’ve rewritten an old Dales verse, reminding him that we in Langcliffe are indeed worthy visitors on his turf:

There are things they do at Stainforth,
In Settle and Horton too,
That we who live in Langcliffe
Would rather die than do.
With Giggleswick’s behaviour
We don’t see eye to eye,
for the moral tone of Langcliffe
Is very, very high.
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My photo diary allows me to compare the seasons year on year. Locally, October so far hasn’t been much different from last year. I took the top photo in the blog on 12 October 2014 on The Highway, between Langcliffe and Settle, and the scene was similar when I walked along this quiet back-road yesterday (excluding the anonymous models whom I thank for making that picture more interesting).

I also grabbed some smart sunsets in 2014, and last Sunday the sky drew me out again for a little wander around Helwith Bridge. At first I couldn’t decide if above me were vapour trails leading to and from Manchester Airport but I learned later that they were clouds, possibly Cirrus Radiatus. There have been some great atmospheric conditions in the dale…

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We interrupt this blog for an important public announcement
[Insert large exclamation mark inside triangle here]
WARNING LYCRA ALERT
It’s been announced that Settle will be one of six host towns in next year’s Tour o’ Yorkshire (what’s all this ‘de’ nonsense? We’ll be eating garlic next). Do not enter the town next April if you are allergic to Lycra or offended by people wearing skin-tight luminous clothing. Please don’t stare at their nether regions as it only encourages them.

________

The weirs at Langcliffe (pictured below) and Settle looked much calmer yesterday than they had done earlier in the week, and I’m told that salmon have now been seen heading upstream.

Even the footballers donned autumn colours for their match by the Ribble in Settle.

_________________

Sadly, events this week have been over-shadowed by the death of friend and former work colleague Bill Mitchell MBE. He died peacefully in hospital on Wednesday night aged 87. Bill contributed to Dalesman Publishing Company (later Country Publications) for more than 60 years, doing everything from delivering copies of magazines to editing them, as well as writing books. When he retired as editor in 2008 he continued to write (more than 200 books in all) from his home in Giggleswick and freely gave talks and lectures. Many of his early interviews and recordings are in the process of being digitised for future generations to enjoy and learn from (www.settlestories.org.uk) and an archive of his work and collections is stored at Bradford University.
Bill was a modest man; he won many awards and accolades but I don’t recall him ever mentioning them in my company. He didn’t write for vanity or to amass wealth – he just wanted to record life as it really happened. When I sat with him for tea and biscuits – before his lovely wife Freda died it was gorgeous home-made cakes and tea – he would take me through a maze of stories, anecdotes and one liners, often with broad Yorkshire phrases thrown in for good measure. The stories never centred around him, they were about the people he’d met, the places he’d been, Nature, life and tradition. The mark of a good editor and writer is the ability to know and supply exactly what the reader wants. Bill achieved this in an unfussy, informative and entertaining way. He will never be replaced and I feel privileged to have known him.

The picture is one I took of Bill when we visited the original home of Dalesman in 2008. He’s stood on Brokken Bridge in Clapham. The top house of the row on the left is Fellside, which the magazine’s founder, Harry Scott, rented and used as a home and office from 1939 to 1955. The owners kindly let us in, and Bill reminisced about his time there.

Do you want fries with that view?

I might not always see eye to eye with some decisions and policies made by the National Park Authorities, but all in all I think they do a fine and very necessary job of safeguarding our countryside. I’ve certainly never viewed them as being extravagant or a total waste of taxpayer’s money – unlike, say, the House of Lords. (In 2014 the net operating cost of the outdated House of Lords was around £100m while that of the Yorkshire Dales National Park was nearer £4.5m – and not all paid for by the taxpayer.) The National Parks have already suffered massive cuts and are are now faced with even more. Staffing has been slashed by 20 per cent meaning among other things that right-of-way management, visitor facilities, car parking, toilets etc have all been hit. I know there are many other pressing matters to be concerned over, but does this government see the British countryside as just another asset which they can sell off to the highest bidder? The parks have been told to raise more money themselves … we interrupt this Blog for a short advertisement …
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The McDonalds Yorkshire Dales National Park
Our walk-through diner on Penyghent now features the famous Barbequed Spare Ribble Platter. At our Dodd Fell branch you’ll find the McWensleydale Cheeseburger and our Snaizeholme McSquirrelnut burger for vegetarians. Our popular Sedburger Club Sandwich with our home-made Hawes Radish Sauce is popular at our Ingleborough branch. The Malham McMuffin with Maple Syrup will delight you at the new Cove Experience outlet. While our exciting Strawberry Strid Milkshake is free with every Wharfedale McWrap bought at our Bolton Abbey franchise located in the former priory. Admission fees apply.
The Yorkshire Dales … I’m Loving it.
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I’ve taken more than 250 pictures this week so it’s been a bit tricky narrowing down a selection for the blog. I’ve even ventured slightly outside my normal patch of Ribblesdale into Sleddale, Wensleydale and Clapdale. No wonder I’m feeling a bit jet-lagged today … or maybe that’s more to do with the beer consumed while drowning my sorrows watching the Rugby Union. Rather than base my choice of pictures on technical prowess or prettiness, I tend to go for those which tell a story or remind me of the occasion, so professional photographers please look away now.

Last Sunday I did a lovely circuit from Langcliffe – these trees on the route at Stackhouse (top picture) will look superb in a couple of weeks – towards Feizor then back via Giggleswick Scar (pic of my boots from there pointing to Settle) . There were some terrific views, including Penyghent, Ingleborough, Settle and Stainforth Scar (2nd pic), despite an ever-present distant mist.

Monday I followed the ancient track from Horton to High Birkwith, returning along the surfaced road via Newhouses Tarn and the smart hamlet of Newhouses. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell the difference between the clouds and vapour trails and today they mixed to form some interesting patterns in the sky.

I often wonder how many of those hundreds of Three Peakers who charge through this area in a bid to chalk off the mountains, actually stop and take in the extensive views from this side of the valley.

It had been many a year since my last visit to Aysgill Force in Sleddale so on Tuesday I returned to find it in a sedate mood. I recall it gushing like a mini Niagara last time, but today a steady flow, captured here without any clever time-lapse photography, seemed to perfectly match my mood. It was great too to see a red squirrel scurry along a fence – far too quickly for me to capture. Wensleydale looked gently rural, too, and I liked this farmer’s humour …

As if my hair wasn’t grey enough already… heading back down Ribblesdale, near Selside, one farmer was determined to make me look even older.

Scaleber Force also looked laid back in the evening. I’d gone out to capture a sunset from Stockdale but couldn’t resist a quick look at the falls above Settle. Then, looking west from Stockdale, the sun said a colourful farewell. Looking in the other direction, the limestone scars of Warrendale and Attermire took on a warm pink glow.

On Wednesday my intention was to head up to Ingleborough from Clapham. The walk started well as I took the route via Clapdale’s fortified farm (pictured below), part of which dates back to the 13th century. Some of the walls are said to be 5ft thick and built to ward off rampaging Scots. (Before any friends snigger, accusing me of avoiding paying the fee to walk through the estate grounds, I really was genuinely interested in seeing the building, honest.)

However, by the time I got to Gaping Gill having struggled up Trow Gill (below) my knees were giving me such pain that I decided it would be wiser to turn back than have to call out Mountain Rescue further up. The other picture is of an unnamed pot hole close to Gaping Gill looking towards Little Ingleborough.

Thursday morning I struggled to make it downstairs to brew my morning cup of Yorkshire Tea such was the stiffness in my knees. I decided there and then to curtail my walking for a few days, and I looked up the price of a teasmaid on t’ internet. Not on my pension. I did manage to pop out and capture this speckled wood butterfly sunbathing on the house wall and later enjoyed another fine sunset from Winskill.

I was back at Winskill yesterday to see if there was a temperature inversion shot to be taken over Ribblesdale. But it was the heavier stuff – fog drifted in very quickly – the two shots below were taken just five minutes apart. My own fog is beginning to lift now so I might go try out the old knees again today.

Thistle threat, litter louts and dog poo – but all's well in the colourful dales

I have often thought that left without any interference from human and beast, thistles would eventually dominate the world. I’m sure this year I’ve seen more fields taken over by the plant than ever before. While everyone is worrying about militants and terrorists, thistles are sneaking up behind us. You read it here first. I saw these (below left) on a walk up to Stainforth Scar (above) which looked splendid in the morning light. The one on the right appears ready to take on weapons of mass destruction.

The last week has reminded me that to live in the Dales I must also accept their ever-changing moods. I enjoy watching light dancing across the moors and pastures like this little performance over Newhouses Tarn (below) which is on the road between Horton and Birkwith.

Not as pleasant but often just as dramatic are those times when rain clouds pass quickly overhead. One day last autumn my aim was to slog my way up Park Fell but it became too soggy so I followed the path across the limestone close to the ancient settlement and towards Ribblehead. This photo of Penyghent was taken on my way up the track to Colt Park. I liked the way the trees and sheep were forming an orderly queue up the hill.

When I remember, I will take a plastic bag on my walks so I can carry home any small bits of litter carelessly dropped by others. I’ve not got some kind of disorder or anything like that; primarily I just don’t like the thought of animals or birds choking on garbage selfishly discarded by humans who should know better. Locally there’s usually very little to pick up but at certain popular spots used by day trippers the problem can be horrendous. The culprits don’t seem to realise (or care) that no one is actually paid to tidy up after them in the open countryside. So imagine my horror this week on seeing litter being thrown out of the back of a very expensive car – by children – along the back road to Malham from Settle. Well done parents, that’s the way to engender respect for the countryside.
Shortly afterwards I came across bags of dog poo in a lane, and I almost went into full-blown Victor Meldrew mode. A local told me they thought the bags would probably be picked up by the dog walkers on their return journey to save them having to carry them around their walk, which placated me a little. But I have seen poo-bags hanging from branches and fences like Christmas gifts on a tree before now. Unbelievable.

Talking of dogs, I’ve often admired this construction on the path between Stackhouse and Settle. Part of it lifts up to allow pooches easy access. However, a warning to dog owners walking this stretch at the moment: a couple of fields nearer Settle there were several cows with calves when I walked through yesterday.

Nature’s colours have definitely changed this week and autumn has announced its imminent arrival in the dale. Early-leafing trees are now quickly shedding, and a couple of colder, clear nights have sped up the process. I like bright autumn days and look forward to capturing the colours once again. Here are three photos taken during the last week around my home. Above, a view from Stanforth Scar over the Ribble and Stackhouse; below, a leafy lane in Stackhouse; bottom, on the path between Winskill and Settle.

Put up wi' it

One of my favourite poems written by Victorian Yorkshire writer John Hartley from his book, Yorksher Puddin’

Who’d be a slave, when Freedom smiling stands,
To strike the shackles from his fettered hands?
Who’d be a slave, and cringe, and bow the knee,
And kiss the hand that steals his liberty?
Behold the bird that flits from bough to bough;
What though at times the wintry blasts may blow –
Happier it feels, half frozen in its nest,
Than caged, though fed and fondled and caressed.
’Tis said, ‘on Briton’s shore no slave shall dwell,’
But have you heard not the harsh clanging bell,
Or the discordant whistles’ yelling voice,
That says, ‘Work slave, or starve! That is your choice!’
And have you never seen the aged and the grey,
Panting along its summons to obey;
Whilst little children run scarce half awake,
Sobbing as tho’ their little hearts would break
And stalwart men, with features stern and grave,
That seem to say, “I scorn to be a slave.”
He is no slave – he is a Briton free,
A noble sample of humanity.
This may be liberty – the ass, the horse,
Wear out their lives in routine none the worse,
They only toil all day – then eat and sleep,
They have no wife or children dear to keep.
Better, far better, is the tattered lout,
Who, tho’ all so-called luxuries without,
Can stand upon the hill-side in the morn,,
And watch the shadows flee as day is born,
Tho’ with a frugal meal his fast he breaks,
And from the spring his crystal draught he takes,
Better, far better, seems that man to me,
For he owns Heaven’s best gift – his liberty.

Carless in Settle, accommodating cows, synchronised sheep and the Simpsons

I think I’m developing RSI in my camera-clicking finger. The week has seen some amazing atmospheric conditions in Ribblesdale and, although I’ve been carless and stayed local, I’ve managed to capture a bucket-load of pictures. The thing about being a point-and-shoot, capture-quickly-what-you-see snapper like me is that you usually end up with a hard drive swamped with flotsam and jetsam and just a few pearls hidden in among. This week, however, it’s been difficult to narrow down a selection to use in the blog. The cows provided me with a perfect foreground for shots of Ingleborough (above) and Penyghent (below) taken from Winskill Stones.

Just a little further down the lane Samson’s Toe erratic helped with my view down Ribblesdale over Settle and Giggleswick.

There were some clear shots looking south-west this week, and I particularly liked this one with the dappled sunshine. In the distance you can see the natives of Lancashire burning witches in the borderlands.

I fair galloped out of the house one evening on seeing a large dark cloud passing overhead. It came and went quickly and happily deposited its contents elsewhere, but it was certainly a scene-changer in these parts. Here are a couple of many shots I grabbed. The four sheep, unconcerned about what’s happening above, seem to have established their own space with some accuracy.

I do enjoy being a photographer-on-the-hoof, but occasionally I wish I’d been a bit more professional and taken with me more equipment (and had more technical know-how – and patience!). A tripod and remote clicker would have improved my shots at Catrigg Force and the Hoffmann Kiln (below).

Walking up to Stainforth Foss I spotted this heron. Every time I got within 50 yards of it it flew on a little further up the Ribble. We played this enjoyable little cat and mouse game for about ten minutes. This is a poor shot (below) I know, but it shows that I did at least try to be a bit more Ray Mears.

The foss and bridge looked splendid and I was the only person around. This, and strolling up to Stainforth to have a grand pint of Wainwright’s in the Craven Heifer, reminded me of how lucky I am to be retired and to live in such a lovely place.

Walkers heading up Goat Scar Lane from Stainforth to Catrigg may often have their head down wishing the steep climb would soon end. But stopping and taking a look back across towards Smearsett Scar and Ingleborough is well worth it.

The clouds on that photo and also on the next one showing Penyghent, remind me of the start of the Simpsons cartoon on TV. No manipulation on my part – the sky is exactly as I took it at the time.

Looking up at the magnificent Stainforth Scar (below) during the week I pondered why this wasn’t more of a Mecca for climbers. Some crag rats will probably tell me the rock isn’t stable enough, but even for a definite non-climber like me I can see the obvious attraction here.

Finally this week – who needs the Yorkshire Sculpture Park (a wonderful place by the way) when we have our own version in Ribblesdale. Every time I visit Lower Winskill there seems to be another welcome addition to the landscape. Some talented folk up there.

Dancing the light fantastic in the Dales

For folk like me who are now past their best-before date, the trek up from the Ribble in Settle to the head of Stockdale is a bit of a toil. The reward from some 1400ft of puffing and panting is this glorious view back down the dale, especially when the clouds are scudding by and the changing light is making patterns on the pastures. Ancient man would have looked upon great forests here as he made his way over to Malham beside the towering limestone knolls and scars created by the Craven Fault.

Light played a big part in my photography this week when I stayed local to Ribblesdale after having handed the car keys to my son. A couple of lovely sunsets and a lower sun brought about a subtle change to the dale after the harsher (albeit brief) summer brightness. Some of the hillside trees gave off an autumnal glow in the late sun. The evening sunlight also brought new tones to Langcliffe village green and surrounding buildings. The pictures tell the story far better than I can…

Another sign of autumn is the sight of people with plastic bags and baskets full of berries and other free wild booty… nothing wrong with this in moderation but I hope they save some for the birds and other wildlife that depend on Nature’s harvest.

The steam train season along the Settle-Carlisle Railway may have ended but along came two ‘specials’ this week, catching me somewhat by surprise. I saw the Galatea engine from the High Way into Settle and the Leander as I was walking along the lower main road to Langcliffe.

A Bo Peep moment, celebrity sheep and cracking the flags

On a regular walk by the Ribble earlier this week I wondered what was different. I had a Bo Peep moment and realised that the sheep had gone – carted off to the abattoir no doubt. Just a few lucky ones remained in a distant field. I’ll miss them. Looking back at some of my photos of the lambs in those same fields earlier in the year, and thinking about their short lives, leaves me quite saddened. I’d be a useless farmer.

From when I edited The Countryman magazine I recalled an article on the different styles of gates to be found around the British countryside – there are dozens of styles, many with their own names and peculiar to their region. I’ve made a note to search through my collection of photos looking for the various styles that I’ve captured while wandering through the Dales… it’s certainly a job for the long winter nights, but for starters I took this shot of an old gate on the back road between Langcliffe and Settle this week. Is there a term for ‘gate collectors’?

I’ve given up my car for a few weeks and left it, probably unwisely, in the hands of my son. It’ll be interesting to see how I go on without wheels. On Saturday I caught the train to Horton and called in at the village show. I’m sure this is the sheep that features on the Yorkshire Dales National Park signs.

Back in Settle it was cracking the flags… the Flag Crackers of Craven were performing along with other traditional folk dancers (although one little girl wasn’t too keen on the loud drumming). With a free folk festival also on over the weekend this little town sure is a vibrant place to live.

Here the 4th emergency service arrives in the nick of time to replenish stocks at the Lion.

Before I handed over the car keys I took a trip over to the enigmatic town of Holmfirth to visit artist Ashley Jackson and his lovely family. We’re not related – at least I don’t think so, although Granddad Jackson did have a bike. I’ve long admired Ashley’s work, even before I signed him up to produce a series of pieces for Dalesman magazine. He’s currently celebrating 60 years as an artist and also his 75th birthday, and is putting on an exhibition of his work called Passing Storms and Spiritual Skies at his Holmfirth gallery. You may have viewed his work on screens or in magazines but to see his original works full size, close-up, is a totally different and enlightening experience. No one captures Yorkshire’s moorland moods and atmosphere so intimately. The exhibition closes Sep 12 – for gallery opening times visit www.ashley-jackson.co.uk

On Thursday, despite the grey cloud cover I had a very pleasant walk with friends, taking in the Hoffman Kiln at Langcliffe, up to Catrigg Force, Winskill and Victoria Cave above Settle. I’ve yet to get a cracking photo of these spectacular falls but I always enjoy my visits – and there was plenty of water in the beck to make this trip worthwhile. I also got this nice shot of farm buildings with Ingleborough in the background, which I felt would look good in black and white.

Another day I wandered around Settle and saw this yellow ‘beck’. Sad old fool that I am, I still remember a pop song by Christie from 1970 called Yellow River, and I ended up singing the darn thing all the way round the rest of the walk. Finally, I came across these ducks on a pipe, looking as though they were about to start a proper duck race. A couple have not quite got the idea and are facing the wrong way. Quackers.

Sunsets, tarns, top views, trains and therapy

This week I took far more photos of trains than would normally be considered as healthy. Therapy has been suggested but in my defence it was the final week of the summer steam train season on the Settle-Carlisle line which runs close to my home. I’ve bunched a few of my favourites from Wednesday and Thursday at the foot of the blog. The helicopter, however, was not the form of transport I was expecting to see while waiting at Ribblehead Viaduct.

After writing my previous blog on Sunday I walked up Ribblesdale to Stainforth and back to Langcliffe via the scar and Lower Winskill. There’d been thunderous storms the previous night and a new ‘tarn’ emerged at the foot of the scar. I suspect that eons ago there was once a tarn covering much more of this area as well as in many other parts of the dale.

The calm after the storm brought about a fabulous sunset, and once again the camera went into overdrive. Here are a couple of my favourites looking west from Winskill Stones.

Wednesday saw me visit one of the old quarries on Ingleborough Nature Reserve where Nature is gradually taking over once again. This will one day be a super place for studying wildlife, plants and enjoying the landscape. There’s a well-designed seat which follows the contours of the background hills of Park Fell, Simon Fell and Ingleborough as well as portraying the underlying geology. There’s no doubting the major wind direction in this area – Whernside in the background.

I always know that summer is coming towards its end when the rowan berries add an orange tinge to the dale’s scenery. They sit well against the grey walls, barns and scars, contrasting perfectly against green pastures. This was taken on Thursday and shows Stainforth Scar.

This week saw the publication of Dalesman’s Top 50 Yorkshire Views, as voted for by its readers. The county is spoilt for choice, of course, and we all have differing reasons for liking particular scenes. The number one view is that from Sutton Bank, looking across Lake Gormire, the York Plain and beyond. A cracking panorama which I suspect also came out tops because of the viewpoint being easily accessible. I prefer hillier landscapes with limestone scars, walls, barns, pastures: typical Yorkshire Dales scenes. Also, I like the element of surprise; being able to walk around a corner or reach the top of a hill where a whole ‘new’ view opens up before me and takes my breath away. I’ve seen so many of these around the Dales that I don’t think I could ever choose a favourite. Check out the Dalesman website/buy the magazine – now on sale. www.dalesman.co.uk

As promised, more trains. Time to google ‘steam train therapy’.

The Charms of Ribblesdale (with barns and bunnies)

By Ribble’s stream I’ll pass my days,
If wishes aught avail;
For all that mortals want or praise
Is found in Ribblesdale.

So goes the first verse of Novello’s madrigal, The Charms of Ribblesdale. (I’d love to hear it sung so if anyone knows of a recording please let me know.) The poem’s sentimentality may be a tad OTT but I did feel the need to sing the dale’s praises myself on Monday. Wandering alone – give or take a few dozen sheep – around the deserted settlement of Thorns I wondered why anyone would ever want to leave such an idyllic spot. After just a short ascent from the crumbling buildings glorious views of the dale open up – without the effort and toil of struggling up one of the peaks. I continued a little further along the Ribble Way which heads from Thorns towards High Birkwith. Within half a mile of Thorns is another derelict building, Back Hools Barn (note to self: find out about that name!).

One sheep on lookout duty at the door alerted a gang of other sheepish looking characters obviously up to no good inside. They scarpered as I took a nosey at the rotting wooden partitions and beams. The stone doorways and window lintels were nicely carved and a mason’s mark showed he was proud of his work.
Barns and walls are the furniture of the dales and, despite being man-made, without them the whole area would be less appealing. Back in 2006 the National Park did a sample survey which showed that 58 per cent of all traditional farm buildings were in a state considered unfavourable. Of 310 such sites surveyed in Ribblesdale 32 per cent were classified as poor or worse (ruinous or demolished) while 37 per cent were classified as good or excellent. Of the rest, 17 per cent had been converted to residential use and 14 per cent were classed as fair. I’d be interested to know what the figures now show.

On a wet day this week I looked back through some of last year’s photos and posted on Twitter and Facebook this sunset on Ingleborough. It caused quite a stir and brought me more’ likes’, ‘favourites’ and ‘retweets’ than I’d ever got before. Funnily enough, I think my previous ‘best’ was of a similar light on Penyghent. I would go for a hat-trick with a shot on Whernside but its position at sunset is not as favourable – perhaps a sunrise would suffice if I can be bothered to crawl out from under the duvet early enough.

On Thursday I set off on a gentle circular walk from Helwith Bridge beside the river to Horton, intending to return below the quarries to Foredale. However, a sign informed me that part of the return route was closed for the rest of the year – which seemed a bit draconian just for a couple of hundreds yards of path. Curiosity didn’t get the better of me this time but I might do some discrete investigation at a later date. The little bunny on the other side of this dramatic ‘no entry’ sign either can’t read or is a bit of a rebel.

Foredale’s row of cottage with unforgiving background always reminds me of a Welsh mining scene or a landslip disaster waiting to happen. It’s not like that at all really and if you haven’t seen the film Lad: A Yorkshire Story which is shot in this area, I recommend you do so immediately.

The railway line was busy during my walk – goods going up and steam coming down.

The river certainly livened up as the week wore on, and after last night’s storms today the sun is out once again. And so am I.

Author: admin

Monoliths, aliens and a conflict of interests in the Dales

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WARNING: there will be weather in the Dales

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Do you want fries with that view?

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Thistle threat, litter louts and dog poo – but all's well in the colourful dales

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Put up wi' it

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Carless in Settle, accommodating cows, synchronised sheep and the Simpsons

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Dancing the light fantastic in the Dales

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A Bo Peep moment, celebrity sheep and cracking the flags

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Sunsets, tarns, top views, trains and therapy

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The Charms of Ribblesdale (with barns and bunnies)

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